Calling a constantly cranky curmudgeon

The sun is shining. Skies are blue. Our artisan sourdough bread will soon be out of the oven. Hairy woodpeckers have started to hammer on the failed loaf of bread we put in the tray feeder a couple of days ago. The "holiday weekend" major thunder-snowstorm took a path far enough South of us that we're coping with unseasonable cold again, but that's it so far. Oh, but we had a brief and very pretty snow shower this morning, and Sigurd has come to visit for the holidays.

Sigurd in his Christmas canoe

Photo by J. Harrington

Here's the other side of the coin: A couple of weeks ago was "Give to the Max Day." Tomorrow is "Giving Tuesday." Property tax statements arrived a day or two ago. The percentage increase in local taxes proposed is about three times the rate of inflation. Separately, the township is holding a series of public hearings on zoning and ordinance changes but hasn't done much to provide information about what the proposed changes involve. Our jeep registration renewal is due. That notice just arrived. Because we have a custom plate, the local deputy registrar's office can't handle it but they were kind enough to provide a temporary permit in case DVS doesn't send new plates on a timely basis, you know, within a month. (The new system has been an issue in the capital for a year or two now.) All of this is from state and local governments in Minnesota, where we're supposed to be notably above average. God help the rest of you and let's not even get started on the federal government's dysfunctional performance these days.

We're getting notices that our version of Office is not longer supported and may not operate with the next version of Apple's OS X, or is it this version that may cause failure? Our iPhone and the music system in the jeep continue to argue with each other. The iPhone is also failing to recognize my thumbprint in a touch ID. Winter chapping?

Try as we might to be of increasing Christmas cheer, recently, petty problems seem to outweigh the day to day petty positives, turning us into a constantly cranky curmudgeon. Perhaps the problem is our belief that the world should function better? Well, now it's time for us to sign off and go get a flu shot. We hope we don't come down with something in the clinic offices.

A belated package of Thanksgiving cookies just arrived. We'll overdose when we get back home and share some sweetness tomorrow?

My First Best Friend

By Jack Prelutsky

My first best friend is Awful Ann—

she socked me in the eye.

My second best is Sneaky Sam—

he tried to swipe my pie.

My third best friend is Max the Rat—

he trampled on my toes.

My fourth best friend is Nasty Nell—

She almost broke my nose.

My fifth best friend is Ted the Toad—

he kicked me in the knee.

My sixth best friend is Grumpy Gail—

she's always mean to me.

My seventh best is Monster Moe—

he often plays too rough.

That's all the friends I've got right now—

I think I've got enough.

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